Clandestine Operation
by waffleman1314
Summary: It was one mission. One time. And then they never had to see each other again, right? At least, that's what they thought. Perry never thought it would come up again. But it did. And it's worse than he originally thought. A/U, the agents can talk.
1. Prologue: An International Team-Up

**So, I had a crazy idea and started yet ANOTHER story. Tell me what you think of this intro. -AJ ThaPlatypus**

* * *

June 6, 2006. The mission was going well. Not a single pawn out of place. It would have been one I'd have classified as perfect, except I was paired up with an agent from the Australian O.W.C.A. who was, in my mind, the worst agent Monogram and Cryptogram could have teamed me up with. She wasn't a bad agent, no; actually, she was one of the greatest female agents I'd ever met.

Agent F, who'd introduced herself to me as Felicia, was an egocentric, not easily down-sized platypus who took literally no nonsense. You couldn't even crack a smile while on the job with her. She'd made it pretty darn clear when we'd met that she wasn't being shown up by an American or made to look stupid by a platypus that had his continents confused. So, we'd essentially agreed to hold distaste for one another. It only seemed appropriate.

I thought I'd never forget this night. We'd gotten into a huge fight over who was better suited for the mission, slapped each other a few times, and then ended up doing that old fashioned 'I hate you, but let's call this a date night' bit. Long story short, we were in Versailles, we were alone, and we had one special night together. That was it, though. No second thoughts about one another. Just a silent agreement to forget that June 6, 2006, had never happened in our books.

A few days later, we find ourselves in a small aircraft to Antarctica. It's not that important for you to know why we were going there, and the mission itself isn't the point of this all either. The point is what happened once we landed. We were walking along in the snow, and I noticed that Felicia was looking particularly fatigued. For the remainder of the trip, she wasn't at the top of her game. She tired easily. I daresay she got sick a few times, most likely because all of those times I was driving the aircraft from city to city. In my defense, I really enjoy the loop-de-loops.

On the last night we were together, we had a small discussion about reliability. She asked me, "Agent P, if ever I were to need your help, on anything, for anything, would you come to my aid?"

"If it were something I could help with," I replied.

"Define 'something you could help with,' Agent P, will you?" she pressured, not letting me off of the subject. "No bodgy, just tell it to me like it is."

"I mean, anything related to what I do as an occupation," I said flatly. The question had struck me as odd. Why had she asked it? Goodness knows if I'll ever know. When we woke up the next morning, she didn't mention it at all.

We finished up our mission and returned to her base in Australia. Colonel Cryptogram gave me a medal for working with her, and she was taken off to the hospital ward. I got back to the States and never saw or heard from her again. But you see, that was a good five years ago. As for right now, that day was a fleeting memory that never really meant much. It was a mission I didn't care to reminisce on. I never really had to think about it. That mission was a thing of the past. Until today. July 14, 2013.

Right then, I was sitting in my lair, immersed in water and focusing on staying out of the business of the other agents. I wasn't at home because I was supposed to be training. Well, I certainly was not doing that, but I doubt Monogram really cared. Of course, when I saw him storm into my lair brandishing a piece of paper, I knew it couldn't be something good. I poked my head up out of the tank and leaned over the edge to greet him.

"Good afternoon, Major, sir," I smiled. "What seems to be the rush?"

"I received a note from the Australian branch," he told me. "They sent a note on behalf of their Agent F. I don't know if you remember her, but you and her were teamed up on the Antarctican mission. The note is addressed to me, but I think you need to hear it, Agent P. If you don't mind, that is?"

"Oh, of course not, sir, tell me what you will," I said, curious as to why Felicia would contact Monogram after all of these years.

"It reads," Monogram began, clearing his throat a little. "Dear Major Monogram of the United States Organization Without a Cool Acronym. Greetings. Five years ago, you and my boss, Colonel Cryptogram, teamed me up with your own platypus agent, the peculiar Agent P. I wish to inform you of an unscheduled stop in Versailles that happened on our team-up. If you mention the night to Agent P, I'm certain he will understand what I'm doing here.

"I have been kidnapped by a rogue group of Aussies who have no intentions of releasing me. Cryptogram is on the case, so please do not send any agents over to rescue me. I have sent three letters like this one out; this one to you, another to Cryptogram, and a third to the person who delivered this note to you. Inside you will find enclosed several papers that pertain to the messenger. You will find that she does not have a last name filed, as I do not know her last name.

"My request is that you hand her over to Agent P for an indefinite amount of time while I am under the watchful eye of the rogues. He told me on that mission that he'd do anything within his occupational skills to help me, but this is a totally different matter, and I hope he understands. This letter gives him full legal rights to her, and I trust that he will treat her how she should be treated. You do not have to tell him this, but the messenger I sent is our daughter. I never told him about her, so do not expect him to know anything about this. That is why I mentioned the day in Versailles earlier in the letter, you see. That night was precisely thirty-eight days from the hatch date of our daughter, and if you know a thing or two about us platypi, you will connect the dots. If you do tell him, however, tell Agent P I still think he's a rather pathetic excuse for a secret agent. Sincerely, Agent F, A.K.A., Felicia Liddell."

"Beg pardon, did she write _daughter_ in that letter, sir?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Agent P, she did," Monogram nodded. "She sent dates, DNA samples, and loads of identification just to prove that the young lady who delivered this note was, indeed, your daughter. It was a bit extensive, but when it comes down to it, at the end of the day, she's proved through and through that you're a father."

"This cannot be happening…" I mumbled.

"Oh, it's very much so happening," Monogram said, crossing his arms. "And to think- you both spent an unneeded extra day in Versailles to make a kid. The very thought, Agent P, somewhat unnerves me."

"I never suggested that idea," I said adamantly. "She said that we ought to fake like we were lovers to throw off the guys who were suspicious of us. Neither of us had planned a kid out of that instance."

"Great, so you played Agent F as a swallow," Monogram grumbled.

"Sir!" I gasped. "I did no such thing!"

"Apparently you did," Monogram raised his brow. He waved for someone to come in. And then there she was, a smaller platypus, obviously female, with longer fur on her head that looked much like short bangs. Her arms were crossed and her posture made me think stereotypical teenager.

"This is Kristi," Monogram told me. "Your daughter."

* * *

**So, thoughts?**


	2. Perry, Meet Kristi

**And things are off to a slow start. -AJ ThaPlatypus**

* * *

"I don't believe this," I said stubbornly. Monogram raised his eyebrows at me and beckoned for me to come to him.

I pulled myself out of the tank and pulled a towel down from the rack. Monogram waited for me to get dry before he proceeded to shove around ten or so pieces of paper into my paws. He gave me a stern look and motioned for me to look at them. Sighing, I looked down to the documents in my hands.

The one on top was a profile of myself that someone had taken. A strand of my fur was stapled to the bottom in small plastic bag. My genetic code was printed in vertical lines down the page. Narrowing my eyes, I flipped to see that the page directly under it was a similar page, only in that it was the same type of profile on Felicia. I flipped that one over to see one with Kristi's name on it. Biting the edge of my bill, I began to turn through those three pages and match up the DNA codes. For my set of A-G-G-C and Felicia's set of T-C-A-A, Kristi had A-G-A-A. Fifty-fifty match. I let out a breath and flipped past Kristi's genetic profile.

On the next page, I saw a complete DNA match-up of Felicia, myself and Kristi. The facts were staring me right in the face. It was one-hundred percent proven that Kristi was my daughter, hands down. I let out an involuntary groan and flipped to the next document. There was a copy of Kristi's underage O.W.C.A. identification card. It was the same card that every child of an agent had to carry. I noticed how her last name didn't appear on the card.

"Are you fully proven, yet, Agent P?" Monogram grumbled. "Is there any other proof you need?"

"This is just too much," I sighed.

"You're not the only one, here," came a feminine Australian voice. Monogram shot a quick look at Kristi, who shrugged and gave him an annoyed look. "Hey, I never asked to be a large part of this bodgy!"

"Look, I'm not here to justify the situation, nor can I make it go away," Monogram said gruffly, looking from me, to Kristi, then back to me again. "Agent P, you are responsible for her until her mother turns up again, and that is the bottom line of it. Kristi, you are to behave just as you would for your mother."

"Sir, how do I explain this to my host family?!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms out widely and letting my mouth hang open a little. He gave me a stern look. "I'm sorry, sir, but in order to get her into my house, my host family is going to have to understand. If not, they'll probably either get rid of her or do something horrid to me!"

"The first is more likely to happen, those two boys love you too much to let harm come to you, Agent P," Monogram pointed out. Apparently he didn't see the potential for my human family to assume she was a possible mate and cart me off to the veterinarian's office to have some scary operations done. "And I will accompany you to talk this over with your host family, under the understanding that we can completely wipe their minds after the event is over with and you've handed Kristi back over to her mother, since I'm assuming you won't keep her. As for right now, just get to know the girl, because I have some issues to deal with at the moment. Agent H blew his cover again…"

We watched as Monogram and Carl left the room just as quickly as they'd come. Once again, my lair was quiet. Kristi turned and looked at me awkwardly. I went and sat the papers down on my desk in a sloppy pile and a sat down in my chair. She just stood there, frozen in the moment. When she saw that I was making no real attempt at conversation, she threw out a question she'd probably been holding back since she'd first walked in.

"So, Mum really never told you about me?" she blinked. I took a deep breath and shook my head no. She shifted her feet anxiously and stepped a little closer. I opened my eyes and saw her edging towards me.

"Are you okay?" I asked, frowning a little bit. She froze.

"Sorry, I just…" she looked to the side embarrassed. "Having never met you…I'm having a hard time believing this is true…"

"What do you mean?" I persisted.

"Well, I mean, not having a dad for your entire life and then suddenly meeting him," she said slowly. I softened my expression a little and watched as she walked even closer to me. She reached a hand out and touched my hand gently. I suddenly became curious and fell silent. Her eyes looked me up and down. "Oi, look…"

"What?" I blinked. She picked up my hand and pressed one of my fingers against the bridge of her bill, and then reached out with her finger and pressed it to mine. I gave her a questioning look.

"We've got the same bill…" she breathed. I gave her a small smile and she returned it, laughing a little as she did so. She looked at my hand for a moment, and then pulled it off of her bill and compared it to her own. "Crikey, I'm more of you than I am of Mum!"

"Is that so?" I laughed. "Don't tell her that, now."

"Why doesn't she like you?" she asked me, brushing past my comment like a freight train. I sat back a little. "She mentioned in her letter that you were a sorry excuse for an agent, no? That would indicate she didn't like you, right?"

"Yes, it's true, your mother could care less if I existed," I nodded. "I think it offended her that I was a pet and that I lived in America. It might have also been the fact that I was seen as superior on our mission, as I was the male."

"So…she doesn't hate your personality, per se?" Kristi narrowed her eyes a little.

"I don't really know," I sighed. "I haven't seen her for five years, though, so what _can_ I say about it? She never gave me a chance to get to know her. It was just 'do the mission, do it well, and we'll never have to see one another again.' There was no introduction past her name was Felicia and mine was Perry. We were just two agents on a mission and not a single other reason to know each other."

"Then explain me," she raised her eyebrows indignantly. "If you two wanted nothing to do with each other, then how did I come about? You don't seem to be away with the pixies at all."

"Away with the…what?" I blinked.

"Crazy," she said, clearing her throat. "I meant to say you don't seem crazy."

"Oh," I said. "Next time, just say so, okay?"

"Well, are you going to tell me why I happened or are you going to keep ignoring that topic?" she asked me. I huffed a little in response. "Come on, if anyone needs to know, it should be me."

"Alright, alright," I said. She sat down next to me in the chair and stared at me, waiting for me to explain everything. "It was a calm, quiet night in Versailles, France…"

* * *

Felicia turned the key in the lock of the hotel room's sole door until it made a satisfactory clicking sound that told us we were locked in tight. I pulled the one window shut and locked it as well. I also pulled the drapes shut, so that the dim, yellow lighting from our room's lamps wouldn't splay out into the streets of the old city. Turning to Felicia, I raised my eyebrows in question.

"So, did you get those over-curious pests off of our back?" I asked her. She shrugged a little. "You have to have a better answer than that."

"Perry, I lied to them so that they wouldn't know why we were really here," she said in a hushed voice. I took that to mean that they could hear through the walls.

"What did you tell them?" I whispered back. She pulled me close and gave me an abrupt, yet semi-passionate kiss. As soon as she let go, I went to slap her, but she made a face that told me everything I needed to know. She'd told them we were a couple. I returned her expression with a very angry one and walked over to my bed, hoping that was the end of that. When she hopped into bed beside me, however, I almost had the nerve to shove her out. "They can't see us…"

"That is not what I'm doing," she said curtly.

"Then why the crap are you in my bed?" I hissed. I was beginning to wonder if they could really hear us or if she was making me look stupid by having me whisper. "If they can't see us, get out!"

"They will see us," she said back just as harshly. "They plan to burst in on us at about midnight! Don't ask how I know this."

"Fine, then you can sleep in my bed until the coast is clear."

"Again, that's not what I'm doing."

At that point I wanted to slap her silly. It took everything in me to remain the gentleman I'd told her I was. I narrowed my eyes at her and kept my distance. She grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a look that read, 'You're not getting out of this, Perry.' I tried to push her away.

"Felicia, I refuse to do that, and I'm almost certain that you don't want to do it either, so just back off. We can easily fake that we did it, if you need proof for them."

"Perry, I'm going to be as blunt as I can about this," she said, sucking in her breath quickly out of frustration. "I don't want to do this either, but my tongue was running full steam ahead of my bloody tongue and I told them we'd be doing that at midnight."

At that point, I'd known I'd already lost that battle.

* * *

"So, what you're saying is…" Kristi trailed off.

"Yes, your mother played herself a swallow so that this group of French police didn't know we were foreign spies snooping around in French business," I sighed. "We didn't want anything to do with each other, and we weren't exactly romantically inclined. We had no intentions of getting a kid out of it."

"I was an accident, then?" she blinked, not in the least bit offended by the statement, like I thought she would be.

"I guess," I frowned. "That's not to say that you're unwanted. It's just to say that your mom wasn't prepared to have a baby. That's probably why she never contacted me. She didn't want me to feel worse about that night."

"Well, now you know," she said quietly.

"Yeah," I nodded. We sat there in silence for a little bit and had nothing to say. I mean, what was there _to_ say? Neither of us had known about the other's existence before today, and now we were father and daughter. We didn't want to feel awkward around each other. But it still was awkward. Very awkward. She twiddled her thumbs a little bit. I kicked my feet. Neither spoke for a while. In fact, it was silent up until Monogram reentered the room.

"Alright, Agent P, Kristi, you're coming with me," he said, causing us both to jump out of the chair. "We're going to do a little explaining at the Flynn-Fletcher house."

* * *

**Just a little background and slight characterization of Kristi. **


	3. Two Secrets, One Shocked Family

**How I'd do that...? Whoops, sorry guys. -AJ **

* * *

Monogram told us to take the tubes up to my house while he took the long way around. I grabbed Kristi gently by the wrist and pulled her along after me. She was a little confused, but I think she understood when I waved for her to get into the large green tube. (Is it that hard to understand?) Nervously, she hopped in. I followed, closed the door, and pressed the reverse switch on the side to send us up the tube. In a matter of seconds, we were sitting on my front lawn. Monogram walked up behind us.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road, will we now?" he said.

"Wait, how did he…?" Kristi said slowly. I patted her on the head and followed behind him. "Oi, you Yanks are something with your tube system. We have elevators and staircases. They make sense, you know!"

"If you have something to say, keep it to yourself," Monogram said under his breath. She straightened up a little in insult, but I made a cutting motion across my throat.

"Don't do anything rash," I whispered to her. Monogram knocked on the front door and waited for someone to answer it. We heard someone yelling from within.

"Phineas, sweetie, can you get that? My hands are full."

"Yes, Mom!"

The door opened to reveal the boy. He poked his triangular head out of the opening and blinked up at Monogram. I think he was either mesmerized or scared, but I couldn't tell which. Either way, he didn't notice Kristi and myself standing there. Phineas walked out of the door and bit his lip a little.

"Are you with the government?" he asked.

"Yes," Monogram nodded. "I need to talk with your family about something. I think it's important to your day-to-day life."

"One second," Phineas said. He put up a finger and turned into the opening of the house. "Mom, there's a government official here and he needs to talk to the family about something! He says it's important to our day-to-day life!"

"Well, show him to the living room like a good host, then, Phineas!"

"Okay!" he called. He turned back to Monogram. "Mom says you can come in."

"Good," Monogram said. He waved for Kristi and I to follow along, and that's when Phineas noticed us.

"P-Perry?" he blinked. I sighed and tipped my fedora at him.

"Who's that?" Kristi asked.

"One of my humans," I told her. She nodded her head a little and stuck close behind me. It was a little odd to have her clinging to me. I would have assumed she wouldn't be that comfortable around me, but she seemed pretty at ease. "What, are you shy?"

"Around humans," she whispered. "He's the fourth human I've ever met."

"Don't be alarmed, but there are four others that live in this house besides him," I said. She slipped her fingers into my right hand, which caught me off guard. I looked back at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just…I'd feel safer knowing if you're right here," she blushed. I nodded slowly and walked her into the house. Phineas took us into the living room and walked over to me and Kristi. He stooped down and frowned at me.

"I wish you could tell me what's going on," he sighed.

"I can tell you," I told him. He sat back a little and blinked his eyes a few times. Kristi grasped my hand a little harder. "Please don't freak out. This is all just so that she can stay with me for a little bit. My boss will explain it better."

"So…who is she?" Phineas asked.

"This…this is Kristi," I said, swallowing a little. "She's…my daughter."

Phineas just sat there, staring at us in shock. Yeah, there's an awkward moment. If I was a teenage human girl, that would have been like telling him I was pregnant. Or so it went in his mind, he said. I turned a little red and looked away from him.

"You daughter?" he breathed. Phineas' eyes wandered from me to Kristi. She hid behind me a little more.

"He doesn't bite," I laughed a little. Gently, I pulled her out from behind me and stood her in front of Phineas. He reached one hand out and waited. I grabbed her right paw and placed it in his palm. "See? He's safe, I promise. There are no two human beings I'd trust more with my life than Phineas and his brother."

"H-hi," she stammered.

"Hi," Phineas smiled. "He's right. I don't bite."

Kristi giggled a little and let him wrap his fingers around her tiny hand. I looked up at Monogram and saw him staring back down at us. He blinked at me and turned back to watching for the rest of the family. Linda walked in and shook his hand, and Candace and Ferb trailed behind her.

"To what do we owe this visit, sir?" Linda said, her voice wavering a little.

"Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher, I am Major Francis Monogram, I work for a secret agency in the government called the Organization Without a Cool Acronym," he said. "The second face I have here you'll recognize; over here I have Agent P."

I stood up and walked over beside him. Keeping a straight face, I gave him a salute and stood at attention for a moment. He waved for me to put my hand down, but I didn't budge an inch.

"At ease, Agent P, I didn't ask for you to salute this time," he grumbled.

"I know, sir," I said. I pulled my hand back down. "I wasn't thinking."

Phineas and Kristi both started laughing uncontrollably. Ferb just blinked.

"Perry?" Linda blinked.

"Yes, your family pet is a secret agent," Monogram sighed. "Here's the run-down. Technically, your knowledge of his true identity would jeopardize your family and I would have to relocate him out of the Tri-State Area, but, we need you to know for a certain amount of time."

"And why is this?" Linda asked.

"As of right now, he indefinitely has legal guardian rights to the second platypus," Monogram said, looking at her first, then giving me a stern look for good measure. "Long story short, he was, how do you say, irresponsible on a mission about five years ago and the other agent he was with sent her over- she's his daughter."

"I don't quite know how to respond to that," Linda said, looking down at me. I turned red. "Other than I knew we should have gotten him fixed when we adopted him."

"Fixed? What's that?" Kristi piped up. I turned and cut my hand across my throat. "C'mon, I want to know."

"It's when you perform a surgery on an animal, regardless of gender, to render them unable to reproduce," Monogram said. The thought of it made me faint. I fell over and curled up into the fetal position. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Agent P, man up."

"No!" I shook my head. "No mammal should ever have to endure that!"

More laughter from Kristi and Phineas.

"Aw, seriously now, Perry?" Phineas said. "It's not like you need to be able to do that on a regular basis…do you?"

"Phineas Flynn!" Linda said.

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I want anyone putting their hands down there!" I cried.

"Perry, it's no different than someone giving you a bath," Linda sighed.

"Wait, what?" I blinked. "Oh, this means war, Phineas, this means WAR!"

"AGENT P!" Monogram shouted. I leapt back up to my feet and stood at attention again. "This is not the time for you to discuss humans invading your privacy. Scratch that, it's never the time for you to discuss that. There are women and children in the room."

"Funny, Felicia told me that anytime I smiled," I said.

"Mum said that?" Kristi snickered a little. "Blimey, she must hate you worse than she hates bloody Cryptogram!"

"I think my professionalism has been destroyed…" Monogram sighed. Linda nodded and showed him out of the door. I turned to Kristi and went to say something, but she just ran over and hugged me.

"You're perfectly wonderful!" she smiled. She let go of me and laughed at my dumbfounded expression. "Mum's got absolutely no sense of humor. She thinks anyone who laughs is straight up drunk."

"I am not drunk," I confirmed. "I could pass a B.A.C. test right now. So, yeah, I am not drunk at this moment."

"At this moment?" Phineas and Candace said in unison.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "That wasn't to say I drink! I don't drink! Alcohol does things to people's heads, why would I drink it?"

"You're the one who implied that you had, Dad," Kristi mumbled to me.

"Meanies," I said, sticking my tongue out. Phineas and Ferb hopped up and pointed upstairs.

"Say, Perry, you want to show Kristi where she'll be staying?" Phineas offered. "Since I'm sure she'd be perfectly comfortable in our room. Candace isn't into platypi."

"It's different, she's a girl and she doesn't smell like spoiled milk," Candace growled.

"Yeah, that sounds great, Phineas," I smiled. Kristi followed the boys upstairs and I gave Candace a pointed look. "I don't know why you don't like me, but you really don't wanna mess with me."

"Oh, puh-leeze," she rolled her eyes. "We've switched bodies, don't you think we've had enough of each other?"

"So?" I shrugged. "I live in your house, you can't hurt me."

"If you didn't work for the government, I'd chuck something really hard at you," she said with a deep scowl.

"Like this?" I smiled. I tossed a book from a shelf behind me at her and ran upstairs. Well, this didn't look too fun. Candace had it out for me and now my family knows I'm a secret agent. This was gonna be rough.

* * *

**I'll get ya'll the new update right quick soon. It's just around the bend.**


	4. Bonding

**Told you it'd be fast, lol. Enjoy :3 -AJ **

* * *

That night, Kristi and I were given our own little inflatable mattress in Phineas and Ferb's bedroom. We all got ready for bed and Linda made sure to tuck the boys in. She gave me a pointed look before leaving the room. I ran out to talk to her for a moment.

"Have I offended you in any way?" I asked her. She froze, not quite expecting that question. "If that's alright with you, I'd like to know."

"It's just weird, is all, Perry," she said quietly. I nodded a little. "You seemed like such an innocent, harmless creature. The secret agent persona is going to take some getting used to. The fact that you have a daughter…that's just something I don't even want to think about."

"Way too weird?" I frowned. She nodded. "It is for me, too."

"And what do you mean by that?" she blinked.

"I didn't know I had a daughter until today either," I told her. "I'm not sure that my boss made that clear enough to you. Her mother's letter just came in today telling me about her, with her as the messenger…"

"Her mother?" Linda blinked. "So…meaning…not your lifelong partner?"

"Well, um, no," I said, turning red. I pulled my fedora off of my head and fiddled with it in my fingers a little. "No, her mother and I don't even like each other, to be quite frank."

"So, you're telling me that you pretty much screwed up and now you're paying for it?" she laughed a little. I nodded again. "Well, it certainly proves you're just like the rest of us. Imperfect."

"You could say that…" I breathed. I dipped my head a little. "Well, I'll get to sleep, then. Thanks for…for the chat."

"No problem, Perry," she chuckled. I ducked back into the room and looked over at the mattress where Kristi was laying. She had the sheets clutched in her fingers, and she was lying flat on her stomach. Quietly, I walked over and slipped under the covers as well. For a moment, I lay there on my side just looking at her. Her eyes flitted open.

"Hi," I said sheepishly.

"Hello," she smiled. I set my fedora down behind me. "You gonna sleep now?"

"Sort of," I shrugged. "I sleep very lightly and very little. I have to be vigilant, you know. Watch out for my boys and such."

"Like a watch dog?" she giggled.

"Yes, Kristi," I laughed. "I'm a lot like a watch dog. Territorial, always watching, on the alert, and I bark a lot."

"You…bark?" she blinked.

"That was a joke," I told her, trying not to laugh at the fact that she hadn't understood. She blushed a little and shifted in her spot. I kept my head propped up on my hand and looked at her. "You're incredibly right when you say you favor me…"

"Well, I think the only attribute I have of Mum's is I've got her back feet," she giggled.

"Ah, you lucky child!" I said, faking relief. "I've got two left feet- can't dance worth two cents. O.W.C.A. parties are always a wreck when I start dancing."

"I'm sure you're not that bad," she laughed.

"Hey, you can decide that for yourself when you first see me dance," I said, poking her in the bill with my free hand. She just kept laughing. "You know, I don't get you."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, giving me a slightly confused look.

"You've grown up with Fel- I mean, your mom, your entire life, and yet you seem perfectly okay with the dad you met just this afternoon," I told her.

"That is true," she nodded. "Mum's an agent in work and out of work. There's not any time for 'childish, ridiculous bodgy,' as she likes to say. Laughing is like something only crazy people do. She thinks if you've smiled at a joke you've seen a bunyip or something."

"What's a bunyip…?" I blinked.

"Mythical creature that lives in the swamp," she smirked. "Not half as weird as the Aboriginal tale of how we platypuses came to be."

"Do I even want to know?" I laughed.

"Well, in short, the story goes that the water rat saw a lovely lady duck swimming alone one day," Kristi said.

"I can already see where _this_ is going," I chuckled.

"He grabs her 'round the gullet, drags her into her den, and pretty much forces her to mate with 'im," she said smartly. Her accent was getting pretty think the more she got comfortable with me, but I could still understand. "And 'owever much time later, the duck laid eggs. Out of those eggs came the wildest creature anyone 'ad ever seen."

"I'll say," I smiled.

"The other mammals and bird didn't like that, no," she said, waving one finger around. "They told the new creature to choose where it was from- was it a bird, or was it a mammal. Of course, the platypuses chose neither. They were their own breed of creature. They defied the rules of being a mammal by laying eggs, and they defied the rules of being birds by having no wings or feathers. Thus, that is how the Aborigines believe the platypus came into existence."

"Wow, I thought God just put us here," I said jokingly.

"Hey, I never said it was true!" she defended. We both shared a laugh and tried to keep from waking Phineas and Ferb up. "But yeah. Aren't you glad He did?"

"Absolutely," I nodded, rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling. "It's fun being a unique creature that baffles everyone. Although…I'm sure we weren't intended to…well, do things that we do."

"Nonsense, you were perfectly made for your job," she insisted. "I'd give anything to see you in action."

"That can't be your biggest wish," I said, turning to look at her again.

"It's not, but I do wish it," she smiled innocently. "My biggest wish is a little more…personal, you could say."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows. "What is it, if you don't mind my asking?"

"What I want," she breathed. "More than anything in the world is to see you and Mum at least in the same place. I know you don't understand, based on the confused look you gave me when I first was baffled at meeting you for the first time."

"I never met either of my parents," I said, turning red.

"See?" she sighed. "You don't understand what it's like to finally know both parents. Not that it's a bad thing, don't get me wrong, but you'll never see it from my point of view. I'd give even more if you and Mum would…ya know, actually fall in love and stay together."

She turned over on her side, hiding her expression for me. I gathered that it must hurt, knowing your parents wanted nothing to do with each other. What did it feel like? Was it like betrayal? Or more, perhaps, like being torn in two? Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on her shoulder and turned her slightly over so that she could see me if she wanted to.

"How about this," I said softly. "Regardless of what your mom said in that letter, we go find her. That way, you can finally see us together. And I'll do whatever it takes to get along."

"Really?" she whispered. I nodded. She pulled me into a hug. "I love you, Dad."

* * *

**I just love writing Perry as a dad. ^-^**


	5. Captive

**And now...Felicia! -AJ **

* * *

Her breathing was heavy. Sweat was pouring down her brow. Strain was evident as she tugged against her bonds, trying to get away from the torture they were trying to inflict upon her body. If only she'd been smarter- then she would have made better decisions and she'd be at home with her Kristi. The man in front of her pushed the cup of molten metal closer to her face.

"C'mon, sheila, open you's mouth," he said softly through his teeth. Felicia kept her bill clamped tight. It would be better if he spilled it down her front than if he poured it down her throat. Why did she come to that decision? Looks didn't matter, her voice and stomach did. "Darn it, you's is the most stubborn agent we've ever caught."

He pulled the cup away and set it on a table. Smirking, Felicia knew she'd won. Well, won _that_ round, in any event. That still didn't help her dire predicament. The man turned and faced her, a deep scowl present on his tanned skin.

"You humans, you filthy white trash," Felicia growled. The Aussie man looked slightly offended. "Aw, did that 'urt, little baby? You're no true Aussie, your bloody bloodline traces all the way back to Europe."

"And what can you say?" he snorted.

"Ha!" Felicia snickered to herself. "We're only indigenous to Aussie-land. Take a bite outa that. I've only met one platypus that won't an Aussie; 'e was as Yank as a free refill."

"They have free refills in America?" the man marveled.

"You miss the point, you 'alf-wit," she rolled her eyes. The man shook his head at her and toyed with his pocket knife.

"I don't believe I do, Agent F," he smiled. "But, you can sit here doing your block all evo, and it ain't gonna do you a darn thing, ducky. Why? Because, I've got you captive, and you can't escape."

"That's true, I'm no Houdini," Felicia sighed. "Wait, did you call me a duck?!"

"I bet you're wishing you knew a Houdini now, don't you?" he laughed.

"Oh, no you don't, you're not escaping that one, you called me a bloody duck!" Felicia spat. The man chuckled as he watched her anger boil. "And I _did_ know a Houdini, 'e was that Yank platypus I was telling you about. But why would I need a Yank to do an Aussie's job for her? Oh, hmm, that's right- I don't."

"Could you tell me where in the world we are, Agent F?" the man asked flatly.

"Certainly," she huffed. "We're in Tasmania."

"Oh, you poor, poor thing!" he cried, sitting down quickly in a nearby log and trying not to laugh at her. "Has the captor thrown off your well-tuned, A.O.W.C.A. sense of direction! You're not in Tasmania!"

"Then where am I?!" Felicia spat.

"You'll never know," the man told her. He rubbed his knife gently across his palm. "You see, I've taken you somewhere that you'll never find. You will never know where you are, so you can't send for help again. Which means, little ducky, that you can't send for your pretty little ankle-biter to come and rescue you. You, dear agent, have been trapped."

"You won't get away with this!" she shrieked.

"Oh, won't we?" another man stood up. Rodney. Some Yanks didn't deserve to be villains; he was one of the many. "I do believe L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. is already winning."

Felicia looked around at her captors. It was an international gang-up. What they were doing, she didn't know. All she knew was that for some odd reason, she really wished that that half-witted Agent P would show up…even if he was a complete moron in her eyes.

* * *

**Wow...Perry hater. She's my OC and I hate her...*cries* what is wrong with me!**


	6. Taking the Daughter to Work

**Back to the more lovable crew... -AJ **

* * *

The next morning we all went downstairs for breakfast. I ate my usual, which made Kristi do a double take. She graciously accepted Linda's offer to eat some of it as well, although I could tell that processed platypus food wasn't really up her alley. We ate rather quickly, I gave Phineas and Ferb each a quick hug, and then I ran off to one of my secret entrances with Kristi hot on my tail.

"Can I come with you?" she asked. "It's not that I don't like your family, I'll be right dinkum, they're a truly wonderful bunch, it's just, I don't want to feel out of place and all that bodgy."

"Sure," I nodded. "I only understood half of what you said, but sure."

"Sorry, I don't speak Yank," she shrugged, laughing a little.

"I noticed that," I smiled. I pulled up the carpet where I was standing and ushered her to hop into the doorway I'd opened up. She grimaced and jumped through. Rolling my eyes a little, I followed in suit. The tube led us down to the left side of the lair. Kristi landed on her face and didn't move immediately, which resulted in my landing on her when I reached the bottom. This made her laugh. "You did know I was following, right?"

"Right, yeah," she chuckled. "Of course, couldn't we have taken the stairs shank's pony instead?"

"Do what?" I blinked.

"Never mind," she shook her head. "Don't get your knickers in a knot trying to figure it out, we'll be here 'til evo."

"O-kay then," I laughed, standing up to my feet. I offered her a hand to help her up, which she graciously took and smiled a little.

"Ta, Dad," she nodded. I gave her a confused look. She rolled her eyes a little. "I mean, thank you. Blimey, don't you Yanks 'ave any slang at all? Is everything formal? It's apparent, really, that ya don't use a lot of the phraseology we do, but you've gotta 'ave something."

"Yeah, we do have slang," I nodded. "It's just a heck of a lot different than yours. For example, a bad car here is a lemon."

"A _lemon_?" she asked, trying not to laugh. "That's almost as good as the French '_radis,_' meaning radish."

"What's that?" I smiled.

"An horrible movie," she winked. We shared another laugh. I walked over to my chair and sat down into it. She ambled over behind me a little, curious, probably, to see how this was done in our branch. Monogram's image popped up on the screen, ever-serious. He took a quick glance at Kristi and then returned his gaze to me.

"Good morning, Agent P," he said sleepily. "It seems that several L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. members have been disappearing from the scene as of lately. They're leaving no trace as to where they are or what they're up to. Today, I'm assigning you, Agent P from Seattle, and two agents from other branches; Agent P from Wanda's division and Agent Lyla from the Canadian branch; to get a lead on what's going on. Your first destination is Doof's place. You can rendezvous with the other three agents out in the main foyer and get to it. Monogram out."

I saluted him and hopped out of the chair quickly, waving for Kristi to follow me. She shrugged, but did as she was told and sprinted off behind me. Surprisingly, she ran pretty fast and was able to keep up with me all the way out to the main foyer. Once we got there, I saw Peter, Pinky, and Lyla all grinning at me. I waved a little.

"Is that agent a hum-" Kristi started, but I clasped a hand over her mouth and grinned. "Mm?! Mmmm! Mm-y! Mm, mm mmm mm mmm mmmm!"

"Hey, guys," I greeted.

"Hey, 'sup, Perry," Peter nodded.

"H-hi, P-Perry," Pinky said. He was so jittery. Sometimes I wondered what Isabella gave him for breakfast, what with all of his shaking and stuttering.

"Hey, P!" Lyla smiled. "Who'd this you've got with you? A girlfriend?"

"Her? My girlfriend?" I blinked, pointing at Kristi. Lyla nodded. I went to answer, but Kristi pulled my hand down from her bill and took care of it for me.

"Yuck, no!" she shook her head. "He's my _father_!"

"Oh," Lyla remarked, raising her eyebrows in shock. Both Peter and Pinky had a similarly shocked expression on their faces. "Since when have you been a parent?"

"I'm five," Kristi smiled. She looked at me and blushed a little. "We just met yesterday. I know that's a little…well, it's strange enough to make a grown man crack a fruity, but I swear it's fair dinkum."

"Crack a fruity?" Peter frowned.

"Did you just say dinkum…?" Lyla asked, looking as if she felt a little crazy for just hearing that.

"Crikey, does nobody understand Aussie's 'round here?" Kristi sighed.

"No, they don't," I shook my head. She turned around and grabbed me by the shoulders. I was a little confused, but not as much so as when she flat out buried her face in my chest. "Um, Kristi? Are you…are you okay?"

"Mrph…" she grumbled. I just stood there, not really sure of what to do.

"Aww," Lyla cooed. "That's so cute!"

"Yeah, let's see you have one," I mouthed. She gave me a look, indicating that probably didn't even have a boyfriend yet. "C'mon, Lyla, you know you want a kid someday. You're _jealous_, aren't you?"

"Me?" she squeaked. Her cheeks flushed red. "P, let's not go there."

"We'll see about that," I smirked. I cautiously put a hand on the back of Kristi's head. She didn't react to it, so I stroked her fur a little. Lyla tried to suppress her giggles. "Hey, um, Kristi, we need to get the lead out…"

"Get the what?" Kristi gasped. She lifted her head out of my chest and looked me in the eyes.

"Finally, some American lingo to confuse you with!" I laughed.

"That's not funny," Kristi frowned. "Are you making fun of the way I talk?"

"Maybe just a little," I smiled, shrugging. "Only playful, though. You're accent's actually adorable. If only I knew how to speak Aussie…well, then I guess I'd be Australian."

"Yeah, yeah, we know P's only link to Australia is the fact that he's a platypus," Lyla said, waving a hand in front of her face dismissively. "Now, let's get over to Doofenshmirtz's place and see if we can pick up some clues about L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.'s international doings. I have a bad, bad feeling about this."

"You _always_ have a bad feeling about things," Peter huffed.

"That's because they're villains," Lyla retorted. The panda rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, not willing to let her say. Pinky stepped in between them and gave Peter a hard look.

"S-stop t-that!" he stammered. "We h-have t-to get g-going!"

"He's right," I nodded. "Let's crack this case, guys."

* * *

**So...weird combo, no?**


	7. Making Connections

**Long time no see, guys! I have FINALLY written a chapter for you! -AJ **

* * *

Everyone hopped into their own personal mode of transportation; Lyla and I had our motorcycles, Peter and Pinky both had hover cars, and Kristi was deciding who to go with. In the end, her fear of bikes was washed away by her dislike of strangers, and she was found hopping onto the back of my bike. She wrapped her thin arms around my waist and squeezed tightly.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I'm a far better driver than Lyla."

"Hey!" Lyla exclaimed. "I heard that, P!"

"It's not you I'm scared of," Kristi whispered. She looked down nervously at the motorcycle we were sitting on. "I feel like the instant we start rolling, we'll be in a prang. Is that an irrational fear?"

"Nah," I shook my head. "As a matter of fact, when I first got onto a bike like this, I was so scared I could only get up to a speed of twenty-five miles per hour. That's slow, if you're not familiar with American conversions."

"It's not the speed," Kristi emphasized. "It's the stability, size, and lack of airbags."

"You know it just now occurred to me that this thing didn't have airbags…" I murmured. Kristi whimpered a little. "I shouldn't have said that."

"N-no kidding, P-Perry," Pinky stuttered, giving me a slight smile. I rolled my eyes and threatened him with hand signals. He just laughed and nodded for me to lead the pack. Revving up the bike's engine, I walked it forward a few inches and then kicked off. Kristi yelped a little and grabbed me tighter. I pressed my foot into the gas and the bike jolted forward, gaining speed in no time. Behind me, I could hear Lyla's bike zipping along as well. The only reason she was behind me was that she didn't know her way to Doof's headquarters. Pinky and Peter both knew where they were going, so they didn't need to follow me. I turned my head slightly to see her eyes fixated on me.

"Sharp left, Lyla!" I called, figuring it'd be fair to warn her, since my left turn signal light was fried. I knew I was going to get a strict talking to about that, but what could I do right now? As I'd told her, I took a sharp left turn and had to avoid an oncoming dump truck. Behind me, Kristi was holding on for dear life and murmuring something about 'please let me live.' Frowning, I wanted to know why she was so terrified of bikes. "Kristi, if you're planning to open your eyes, don't do it now."

"Why?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

"Trust me, you don't want to see," I told her. Based on her reaction after that, I'm guessing she opened them after I told her not to. She screamed at the top of her lungs as I drove the bike right under the truck's back end. Luckily enough for me, the pusher axles were all up, so I had room to slide under it and slide right back out. Kristi hit me on the back of my helmet. "What?!"

"You bloody moron, you scared me 'alf to death!" she shrieked. I laughed. It was mean, but I laughed. Lyla drove up beside me and shook her head.

"Are you an idiot, P?" she called. "What kind of a moron drives _under_ a dump truck like that?"

"Me," I replied, sticking my tongue out at her. She sat up and opened her mouth a little in mock hurt. Chuckling, I sped up and continued to head towards Doof's building. After that fiasco, it only took us about five minutes to get there. I parked out front, where there was always an open space, and Lyla parked behind me. Peter and Pinky had parked somewhere more undercover and met up with us in front of Doof's building.

"What a weird looking building…" Kristi mumbled. Lyla nodded and gave her silent agreement on this fact. Peter, Pinky, and I all snickered a little, remembering well that our first thoughts of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated were along those same lines. "This is where your nemesis lives, then, Dad?"

"Yes," I nodded. I waved for them to follow me into the lobby. "The guy at the desk just ignores me by now. Well, they all do; especially after the Halloween incident I told you guys about, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't," Lyla crossed her arms as they filed onto the elevator. "And I'm sure you haven't told Kristi, either."

"Fine, fine," I sighed. Peter and Pinky burst into a fit of laughter. "My nemesis was being a blooming idiot, decided to switch part of his brain or something with a cow so that he could 'declare war on grass' and ended up turning himself into a were-cow. Long story short, the boy at the door saw Doof run out like that, mooing and all, and then saw me run out after him with a lasso."

"That poor kid," Peter laughed, sounding slightly out of breath. "Sometimes I envy you, Perry. My nemesis isn't half as hilarious. He's just like, 'today we're going to split atoms.' Sounds like a teacher, if you ask me."

"No kidding," I smirked. The elevator emitted a cheerful 'ding' and opened its doors to the top floor. Kristi looked around and muttered something about 'too much purple' under her breath, but I wasn't able to hear much more than that. I walked over to Doof's door and pulled out my own personal key. Breaking down the door would have been more fun, but Doof could really make a scene when I broke things. I pushed the door open and looked around inside.

"Dude, your nemesis gave you a key?" Peter chuckled. He punched me in the upper arm and grinned stupidly. "Aw, someone's on good terms with his nemesis. Do ya'll have a date later tonight?"

"Do you _want_ me to punch you, Peter?" I frowned, narrowing my eyes at him. Peter raised both hands in mock surrender. "Don't even try it, we both know you're only here to steal my nemesis again."

"That is not true!" Peter huffed. Pinky covered his ears and turned away from us, pretending as if we weren't here, I assume. "And even if it was, Doof has always favored you. Every time I'm around, he talks about _you_."

"Sorry to interrupt your fighting over your two-timing nemesis, ladies, but I don't think anyone's home anyways," Lyla commented. We both turned to look at her and found ourselves wondering how she'd walked past us to get into Doof's living area.

"Hey!" we said simultaneously. I gave Peter an agitated look. He shrugged and grabbed Pinky by the collar.

"Well, it's true," Lyla raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I was talking about you calling me a lady," I grumbled. Kristi giggled a little. I glanced at her, and then averted my attention back to Lyla. "Now, what makes you think that he's not here?"

"I searched the house while you two were bickering about your…issues," she said slowly. "He's not in here anywhere. That, and he left this note on the little side table in the kitchen- it's addressed to you, P."

She pulled out a small envelope and handed it to me. I took it and observed it closely. My name was written as Perry the Platypus on the front in sloppy, dark blue ink. On the back, it was sealed shut with a cat sticker. I noted that the cat was pawing at a butterfly. I pulled the envelope open and slid out the letter. It was off-white parchment paper with more dark blue ink on it. The handwriting looked rather rushed.

"W-what's it s-say, P-Perry?" Pinky asked.

"In so many words, he's tipped us off," I frowned. "He's with L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N., that's for sure. He mentioned them hopping from place to place, not staying in one area for more than two days. It's an international team-up, of sorts. His sole clue is that they've kidnapped an agent, and the agent mentioned something about 'where this all began.' Other than that, we're left blind."

"Why would Doofenshmirtz tip us off?" Lyla asked, her brow crinkling up in slight confusion. "Isn't he working for them?"

"This isn't Doof's handwriting," I informed her. They all seemed appalled at this fact. I slipped the note to Kristi and nodded for her to observe it. She swallowed and did as I'd hoped she would. "I do, however, recognize that handwriting."

"You do?" Peter blinked. "Whose is it?"

"My Mum's…" Kristi whispered.

* * *

**I'm SO sorry it's been a while. **


	8. Tipoff

**New chapter? I think YES! -AJ **

* * *

I paced the length of Doof's kitchen endlessly while thinking to myself what the letter could mean. Felicia's handwriting, but signed as Doof. It didn't add up. For one, Felicia had no business being in the United States; her jurisdiction ended as soon as she left Australia. Also, if there was one thing I knew about Felicia more than anything else, it was that she'd rather die than work for anyone claiming to be evil. My brain was hurting just trying to imagine what would make her write a false note.

"P, don't you think it could be a trap?" Lyla suggested. I gave her a quick glance in acknowledgement and turned my eyes back to the floor. She read right into my thoughts. "It's a trap, P. Don't try and think of it as anything but."

"Lyla, I know I sound crazy, but there has to be some other reason," I said, keeping my focus on the floorboards. "I know Felicia."

"Yes, we know," she smirked. I narrowed my eyes at her and took a deep breath.

"Not _that_ kind of know," I said, setting my jaw in an effort to not scream at her. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. She looked at Kristi, and then she brought her attention back to me. A soft smile played on her lips. "I mean to say that I know her personality. Felicia would never, and by never I mean _never_, submit to writing a fake note in an effort to trap another agent."

"Say what?" Lyla frowned.

"I'm trying to say that if Doof was trying to force her to write a note, she wouldn't have done it," I explained, rubbing my temples to keep the headache away. "Your inability to understand me is taxing my brain."

"I'm sorry," Lyla huffed sarcastically. "Do you want me to read your mind?"

"Be serious," I demanded. She made a face and laughed a little.

"I'm sorry, P, it's just that you're expecting me to understand you, when, in reality, I can't begin to understand you," she smiled gently. I promptly sat down on the floor and crossed my arms. Lyla walked over to me and bent down to my level. "You're not only an animal, but you're also male. I'll always have trouble understanding you, eh?"

"Shut up," I told her.

"Just continue with what you're saying," she nodded. I sighed loudly and stood back up.

"Okay, I'm thinking that the letter was a tipoff of some kind," I said slowly. She gave me a questioning look. "Yes, yes I know that there's no indication of where they went or where they were headed, but it's got to be a tipoff of some sort."

"How could an extremely vague letter about L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. be a tipoff from Felicia?" Lyla asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, think about it," I said, turning back to her quickly. "We determined from that letter that we know they're not staying in once place for very long. We know it's an international business, one that involves a kidnapped agent; Felicia. Lastly, she left a clue."

"Yeah, 'where this all began' helps us so much," Lyla rolled her eyes.

"Actually, it does," I smiled.

"Does it now?"

"Lyla, somehow, and in some way, Felicia knew that I would show up here. I never really told her about my nemesis, but she knew somehow. She left that clue for _me_. 'Where this all began' is Versailles. Versailles, France. They've taken her there. I bet it on my life."

* * *

**I'm back for a while. But...I might be getting a job. We'll see. **


	9. Bon Voyage

**I had a little too much fun with A) Google Translate and B) Perry flying a plane. -AJ **

* * *

Packing for Versailles was no picnic. First of all, Lyla and Kristi packed more bags than I ever thought I'd see in my lifetime. Girls. Peter, Pinky, and I were much more sensible about what we brought. I, naturally, had to get all of the details for traveling, as I was the only one who knew precisely where in Versailles we were headed. Originally, we were going to go there by my rocket car…

We all tried to fit into the rocket car. It would have worked, except Lyla happens to have the largest hips out of all of us, so that was mighty unpleasant. Just before I started up the engine, Pinky has to be the one to point out the obvious.

"G-guys?" he stammered. "I-I think Lyla's s-sitting on m-me."

And that was the end of the adventure for the rocket car.

Anyways, we finished packing and all got together at the downtown Slushy Dawg (which is, for those of you who don't know, by far the WORST fast food restaurant I've ever seen or eaten at. It's gross, really). It was roughly midnight when Kristi and I got there. Lyla was next to show up, and then Pinky. Peter took about an extra fifteen minutes to get there, which he blamed on bad traffic and an inexplicable craving for turkey jerky. Once there, we began to unfold our plan of action.

"Alright, has everyone got their O.W.C.A. approved passports?" Lyla asked, scanning over us all suspiciously. Peter and I pulled ours out, annoyed with her process. Kristi looked around awkwardly, but pulled hers out as well. Pinky had to do a thorough search through his belongings before suddenly realizing it was in his hat. He pulled it out and grinned sheepishly.

"S-sorry," he blushed.

"Okay, then, I've got the private jet parked out back," Lyla grinned. She walked backwards slowly. "Who's ready for this?"

"Me!" Kristi waved her hand around excitedly.

"I'm ready, as always," I huffed.

"Yeah, I guess I'm ready," Peter shrugged. He turned and slapped Pinky on the back so hard that the chihuahua stumbled forward a bit. The jittery agent stood back up and nodded vigorously.

"R-ready as I-I'll ever b-be," he smiled.

"Then let's go!" she laughed. Lyla turned around and dashed out of the door. We all followed behind her and headed out back to board her private jet. Man, Canadian agents must have all rebelled or something to get luxury planes. It was black as night, sleek as could be, and, from what Lyla had said in a previous conversation, it had a mini-fridge. Once everyone had boarded, Pinky and I joined Lyla in the cockpit. "Are you sure you boys can drive something this big?"

"Lyla, please," I smirked. "You make it sound like we're incapable."

"I've seen P drive," Lyla rolled her eyes and pivoted so that she could head to the back of the ship. "Let's hope Pinky's less of a daredevil."

She walked out, leaving us blinking at the threshold she had just been standing in. We looked at one another, trying to hide our smiles, but we ended up bursting out into laughter. Lyla poked her head back in and frowned at us.

"Seriously, boys?" she raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Okay, okay!" I waved my hand. "We're getting this going, I promise."

"E-easy f-for you t-to say," Pinky furrowed his brow. I turned around and started flipping switches. "Y-you can p-practically do anything y-you t-try!"

"Pinky, relax!" I told him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I swung him forward and placed him in the co-pilot's seat. "I'm not asking you to do anything more than keep an eye out for me. So long as I don't pass out, you won't have to take over, okay?"

"P-pass out?" Pinky asked.

"Sometimes, if I haven't eaten before flying, I'll pass out," I informed him. "But we should be fine, I ate an hour ago."

"What e-exactly d-did you e-eat?" he frowned.

"A leftover burrito that no one in my host family will be missing," I reassured him. "Nothing I had to pay for, and nothing I had to steal, either. So, we should be good as long as my stomach holds out."

"This i-is why I-I don't e-eat people food, P-Perry," Pinky grimaced. "Have y-you ever even e-eaten a b-burrito before?"

"Nope," I shook my head.

"O-oh d-dear…" Pinky moaned. I pulled a few levers, flipped a few switches, and checked all of the flight instruments. Chuckling to myself, I pulled down a microphone and tapped it to make sure it was on. Peter, Lyla, and Kristi all yelped with surprise. Yeah, it was on.

"This is your captain speaking, we are about to take off," I said, not without a childish grin on my face. "Please keep all belongings stored above your head, keep all appendages inside the plane at all times during the flight, and don't forget about the insignificant bags of peanuts that you can find in the rear of the plane. If you need to, at any time, use the restroom-"

"Perry, shut up and fly the plane!" Lyla shouted, for once actually using my name. That probably meant she was mad. I rolled my eyes, stowed the mic away, and began to steer the plane. All was going well in my mind.

"P-Perry, d-don't run over th-that car," Pinky swallowed. He closed both of his eyes and covered them with his front paws.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. I jerked up on the steering device (no, seriously, what is that thing called, again?) to hopefully take to the skies. It was taking longer than I had expected, though. I was used to driving a small vehicle that moved as quickly as the steering happened, but this thing took a lot more strain. Pinky started to whimper in Spanish next to me.

"P-por favor, n-no nos d-dejes morir…" he muttered. "P-por f-favor, n-no n-nos d-dejes m-morir."

I gave him a weird look, but decided not to interrupt his plea for…whatever he was saying. If only I spoke broken Spanish. Or was it broken? Was he speaking Yiddish? I don't know, really. He lives with Mexican-Jews. It could be anything of the sort.

Shaking my head, I focused on pulling the plane into the sky. I pulled up as hard as I could. By the time it started lifting off of the ground, Lyla and Kristi had noticed the impending collision with the car (okay, it was actually a minivan) and were screaming bloody murder. Peter…I don't know what he was up to. The plane's tires jumped off of the ground jerkily as I tugged upwards more, and it barely scraped the hood of the minivan, whose driver suddenly saw us and decided to blare the horn as we passed over it. (Was it the fact that the plane was black or was the minivan's driver just THAT unobservant? I mean, really).

The plane bolted upwards into the sky, and we were off. I sighed with relief and punched Pinky in the shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he stopped mumbling in Spa-brew. (Is that an okay term for Spanish-Hebrew? Or should I go with He-ish)? He gave me a look; you know, one of those looks that makes you want to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

"N-never d-do that a-again!" Pinky shook his head.

"Dude, I'm sorry!" I told him. He shuddered a little more than usual and shook his head. "I wasn't trying to scare anyone, I was just getting used to the handling of this plane, okay? Don't freak ou-"

"PERRY, YOU ARE A COMPLETE MORON!"

We both turned our chairs around slightly to see Lyla storming back up into the cockpit. I sighed and waited for the thunder. Pinky pulled his fedora down low over his eyes and started to mutter in Spa-brew again. Or was it just plain Spanish?

"A-asegúrese de qu-que Perry es e-el único e-en problemas…"

"Did you just call me a unicorn?" I whispered to him. He shook his head no. Lyla didn't let me ask any other questions, though.

"I asked if you thought you could fly this thing!" she spluttered. "P, it would have been a very simple thing for you to just say 'no, I don't know how to fly a private jet.' But, NO! You had to go and say you could!"

"Lyla, I didn't say I could," I pointed out. She scowled at me. "I did figure I could, though, once I got the hang of it. And, what do you know- we're flying, we're level, and I only barely touched the minivan."

"Barely touched the minivan, Perry?!" Lyla spat. "You probably gave that family a heart attack! I mean, a plane driving over the hood of your minivan wouldn't freak you out?!"

"Nope," I shook my head.

"Are you insane?!" she asked me, her eyes wild and her hair out of sorts. "Not everyone has your…your nerves of steel! We're talking about a family that probably doesn't go jumping off of buildings everyday! Just because it doesn't freak you out, doesn't mean it won't freak somebody else out, eh?!"

"P-p'arm'akn 'arwyp!" Pinky yelled at us. He jumped out of the chair and ran to the back, most likely to avoid our argument. Neither Lyla or I said anything; we had no clue what he'd just said.

"Okay, was that Spanish, Hebrew, or Yiddish?" I frowned.

"How should I know?" Lyla shrugged. She stood up to her full height and stared after him with a puzzled expression on her face. "I only speak English. I'm from Saskatchewan."

"Can we assume that meant 'shut up' or something?" I tilted my head a little. She shrugged again and blinked. Pinky reappeared around the corner with an agitated look on his face. "So, what exactly did you yell at us in Spanish?"

"Th-that was Y-Yiddish," Pinky furrowed his eyebrow. "A-and I s-said for y-you guys to s-shut u-up!"

He turned on his heel and headed back into the cabin. Lyla kicked me out of the cockpit, so I joined him. Everyone stared at me. I guess everyone can't be a thrill lover.

* * *

**Told ya I had too much fun xD**


	10. Dude, French Cops

**Again, I had too much fun with translation. BUT, I should have you know, I speak French, so it's probably in a better state than the Spanish or the Yiddish.-AJ **

* * *

I landed the plane on top of a French O.W.C.A. building, assuming that was an okay thing to do. It made me wonder when our organization got this big. We made our way downtown to the place where 'it all started.' It was a hotel by the name of Hôtel Hasard. (Don't know French? You might just want to look up what 'hasard' means). This time, however, I didn't have the culturally well-off Felicia to talk with the man at the desk. Therefore, we set Lyla to the job.

"Ah, vous désirez, mademoiselle?" he asked, smiling wide. For some reason, I wanted to wipe that smile right off of his face. "Une chambre pour cinq, je devine?"

"Tell him that we need two rooms- one for the girls and one for the guys," I said quickly. Peter stuck his tongue out at me. "Do it before Peter changes your mind!"

"I'm not rooming with you, Perry, you snore like a tiger with a head cold!" Peter objected.

"Okay, okay, guys!" Lyla said, frustrated with our bickering. That had been going on for a few hours now, and I'm sure she was quite through with it. She turned back to the man and gave him a polite smile. "Deux chambres, et, pour les hommes, puis-ils ont numéro sept cent treize, s'il vous plaît?"

"Ah, bien sûr!" the man said happily. He slipped her some keycards, and she paid him 'par cheque.' I'm assuming that meant something about traveller's checks, because I don't know what in the world 'par' means. As we walked to the elevator, I looked up at Lyla and frowned.

"Did you get the room number I told you?" I asked her. She nodded her head and handed me the keycard.

"Room seven-thirteen, just like you requested," she winked. She flipped a loose strand of hair back and hummed. "Just a question, why did you need that specific room number, P? It's a little much to be asking for a specific room number, don't ya think?"

"Not in this case," I shook my head. "Room seven-thirteen was the room Felicia and I had last time we were here. Her note said 'where this all began,' right?"

"Ew, that's gross!" Kristi shook her head. "I don't wanna think about that. At least the guys get that room. We get an innocent enough one…"

"Wh-what d-do you mean?" Pinky frowned. He gave me a suspicious look.

"I mean that Mum and Dad were rooting in that room, that's what I mean!" Kristi grimaced. We all stared at her funny, but we knew what she meant. "If my guess is right, I'm certain I was made in room seven-thirteen; wasn't I?"

"Yes," I said, turning a little red. Pinky and Peter both started to make gagging noises just to make the situation even more embarrassing. I turned to each one in turn and gave them a smart jab to the ribs with my elbow. "Seriously, guys, grow up!"

"Sorry, Perry, but, you know, it's just weird to think of you…" Peter started, but he was doubling over with laughter before he could get the rest of the sentence out. "I'm sorry, man, I just can't see it ever happening."

"Yeah, yeah, as if you're one to talk," I rolled my eyes. That shut him up. The rest of the elevator ride was taken in silence. We got up to the seventh floor and walked over to room seven-thirteen. Lyla pulled out a card that read seven-fourteen on it. They were the room across from us. We nodded to one another and entered our rooms quietly. "Wow, hasn't changed a bit…"

"Wh-what do y-you mean b-by that?" Pinky stammered.

"I mean that they haven't changed the furniture around or anything!" I said, almost laughing to myself out of pure anxiety. "This place is giving me the chills. I feel like it was just yesterday we were in here trying to stay out of the way of the French cops."

"And let me guess, they saw you two-" Peter started, but I clamped one hand over his mouth and shot him a warning glance.

"It doesn't matter what they saw," I told him firmly. "We're not here because of French cops. You know why we're here."

"French cops would make a fun encounter, though," Peter smirked.

"N-not if you d-don't s-speak French," Pinky complained. "Th-then you don't kn-know what to s-say."

"Guys, relax, won't you?" I said, throwing down a bag of things that I'd been carrying since we'd arrived here. "I can assure you that nothing bad is going to happen and that no French cops are going to come bursting in the door in the middle of the night. Now, it would behoove you both to start searching for clues."

"R-right," Pinky nodded. He half-saluted me and jumped under the bed nearest to him. I watched as he ran around the room with his nose to the floor, trying to pick up any familiar scents. "S-say, do you s-still have th-that letter F-Felicia wrote?"

"I sure do, why?" I blinked. I pulled it out and waved it at him for proof. He scrambled over to me, intensely sniffed the paper, and then resumed searching the room. "Okay, then, if that's how you need to get it done, by all means."

"Why did the girls get a separate room, again?" Peter asked me.

"In case we need to actually stay the night, which is looking pretty probable," I told him. He moaned something about my snoring. I slapped his arm lightly. "Would you quit about my snoring, Peter? You wanna know how you snore?"

"I don't snore, that's preposterous!" Peter spat. "You're just jealous!"

"Of what?!" I spluttered. "You're just trying to make me feel bad, aren't you?"

"I have no hard feelings for you…save for the fact that you cost me a perfectly good nemesis!" Peter returned. "If you weren't such a good listener, Doof would get to battle me every day, not you!"

"Aha!" I shouted. "I knew you were plotting something, you good-for-nothing nemesis thief!"

"Plotting?!" he exclaimed. Pinky's head popped up behind the sofa. "If anyone's plotting, it's you! Why- you just want to see your little girlfriend Felicia again and tell her how much you do actually love her!"

"THERE IS NOTHING BETWEEN ME AND FELICIA!" I shot back. Pinky slowly slid back down behind the sofa. "There never was, she was playing a swallow, Peter! That sure as heck doesn't require romantic interest, so don't even try to throw that one back in my face, you hear? I'm tired of it!"

"Yet you're not stopping a ridiculous endeavor to find your baby-mama, are you?" Peter smirked. I narrowed my eyes and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "Sheesh, Perry, you're testy!"

"You're picking a fight you can't win," I told him under my breath. Pinky started whining about something in the background. We turned our heads, and the door to the room swung open.

"Dude…French cops," Peter shook his head.

* * *

**Annnnnnd...fade to black!**


	11. Where's Felicia?

**I figured we needed an update on Felicia's state. ****-AJ**

* * *

"This isn't funny, you blokes!" Felicia spat.

Now they'd really done it. They'd gone and moved her indoors in a dark, windowless room to make sure that there was no possible way for Felicia to know where she was. She was hoping that the clues she'd left in various places would be found by the one she was hoping to find them. If not, she was utterly screwed. The two that had tied her to a chair in here put down a few boxes next to her and chuckled.

"Now, don't try to go anywhere," the one with the German accent warned. Agent P's nemesis from the United States, he was. Go figure- the not-so-brilliant Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz went perfectly well with the idiotic Agent P. Felicia deemed them a perfect match for each other. "We've got a couple of tricks up our sleeves."

"Right…a couple of boxes are going to scare me," Felicia rolled her eyes. She had to hide the smirk on her face when Doofenshmirtz grumbled a little at 'her stupidity.' Felicia was no idiot- she knew what the boxes were for. "Got any other lame props you're going to try and use as scare tactics, Heinz?"

"I am not Heinz to _you_," Doofenshmirtz huffed. "It's Doofenshmirtz. Or Doof. Or Doctor D, or something like that. Only some people are allowed to call me Heinz."

"Oh, like your mum-sie?" she raised her brow.

"My mother isn't part of this conversation," Doofenshmirtz said gruffly. He tapped one of the boxes with his shoe and looked at Felicia, squinting to see her in the dark. "Look, you try to escape, and we'll blow you to pieces, got it?"

"What about your friends?" Felicia asked, enjoying toying with his mind a little. "Do they call you Heinz?"

"My friends call me-" he said, but then he stopped. "Are you even listening to me? These boxes contain trinitrotoluene. We light 'em up, and there's no more Felicia."

"So what?" Felicia shrugged. "A little T.N.T. doesn't scare me. What _does_ scare me is your lack of friends. Does someone need to break out of his shell a little more, or is he a little too obsessed with his nemesis?"

"Rodney, gag her!" Doofenshmirtz ordered the other man to do. Seriously, did the rest of the world assume that American L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. members were smart? This guy was no better than Doofenshmirtz.

"I told you, it's Aloyse Everheart Elizabeth Otto Wolfgang Hypatia Gunther Galen Gary Cooper von Roddenstein!" Rodney exclaimed. He pulled out a gag and waved it around angrily. "I'm not doing anything until you use my full name!"

"Can it, Rodney, you need to gag her!" Doofenshmirtz shot back.

"After _you_ say my full name, Doofenshmirtz," Rodney returned. He put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. Now would have been a great time for Felicia to be as escape-savvy as Agent P. She rocked the chair forward gently and ended up tipping herself onto her feet.

"It's not like I make you call me Heinz Doofenshmirtz all of the time!" the response came. "And nobody has that much wind in their lungs anyways! You gotta have whale lungs in order to be able to say your full name in one sentence."

"At least my name isn't a disgrace in the world of evil," Rodney huffed. Felicia backed herself and the chair up against the back of the wall and started to knock it against stuff. What she wouldn't do for a pair of scissors or a Swiss army knife right then, she didn't know. Both of her captors turned her direction and gasped. "Now look what you've done, Doofenshmirtz! She's trying to escape!"

"How is that my fault?" Doofenshmirtz whined. Felicia tried to wiggle herself out of the ropes, but it was no use.

"Don't just stand there, get her!" came a third voice. Her nemesis. The one behind it all. She could pick out his Aussie accent any day. The two Americans lunged for her. Just as they got within reach of her, she flipped backwards over both of them and landed on the back two feet of the chair. It wobbled backwards, knocking her onto the floor.

"Crikey…" she breathed. She rolled onto her side and saw Rodney running at her. Using the foot closest to the floor, she spun the chair around to take out his legs. He stumbled over the chair's legs and fell onto the floor beside her. "You've got a right nice grip on balance, mate."

"That's not funny, Felicia Liddell!" Rodney cried.

"Was to me," she smirked. She flipped the chair onto her front and used her bill to lift it enough to get herself back on her feet. Doofenshmirtz lunged towards her, arms out and ready to take her away from the ground. Determined to maintain the one tool she had for aid, she shuffled backwards and caught him between the legs of the chair. "Oh, I'm sorry…am I in your way?"

"I can walk around the chair," Doofenshmirtz huffed.

"Oh, right, right, let me fix that," Felicia nodded. She backed him into the wall and chuckled. "Who's the smart one now?"

"I am!" Rodney leapt up. He ran for Felicia again. It took Felicia a moment to think. She looked from Doofenshmirtz to Rodney, and then back to Doofenshmirtz. A smile spread across her mouth.

"Oh no, I know exactly what you're about to do…" Doofenshmirtz said, swallowing hard.

"Sucks to be you, Doc," Felicia raised her brow. She jerked the chair to the side and spun the unhappy Doofenshmirtz right into Rodney, sending them both to the floor. To make sure neither would get back up, she dashed over to the piled up evil scientists and hit them both in the temple with the legs of her chair. "Now, to freedom."

"Not so fast, Felicia the platypus," her nemesis jeered. He stepped into the room, his pocket knife in hand once more. "You've forgotten that they weren't the only two in the room, haven't you?"

"Give it up, Darryl!" Felicia spat, turning to face him. "You'll never succeed in this! Whatever it is you're trying to do, that is…"

"I'll tell you what we're trying to do," Darryl cackled. He stepped up to her and grabbed her up, chair and all, by the rope. She struggled to get away from him. "We're going to make sure every O.W.C.A. in the world will never touch the L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. ever again. One agent at a time."

"You're stark mad!" Felicia shouted. "Capturing agents?!"

"I'm not just capturing them, Felicia," Darryl said with a wicked grin. He waved for someone else to bring something in. Felicia saw another agent, a turtle, tied up and being led by an evil scientist. "Once I've got the attention of top O.W.C.A. leaders, I'll show them how cruel the world's villains can be. Better get your boyfriend to plan your funeral- you're gonna need one."

Felicia's heart stopped. He knew about the clues.

* * *

**You think she'd be more concerned about the death threat, but...hmm. **


	12. A Strange Promise

**Back to France! Little fore-warning, there's an outright blatant accusation coming. ****-AJ**

* * *

"Monsieur, levez les mains!" the first cop exclaimed, shoving a gun at my chest. Smiling sheepishly, I took that to mean the typical 'raise your hands' bit that most cops did, so I lifted them. Peter nearly did a double take.

"You understood that?" Peter blinked.

"He's got a gun to my heart and you're asking if I understand?" I frowned. The Frenchman pushed me roughly into the room and waved his comrades in. After five or so had joined him, they closed the door and posted men at Peter and Pinky.

"Dis donc, monsieur, nous saisons vous fêtes les agents de police, aussi," the first one said, kneeling down to my level with a scowl on his face. "Expliquez-vous, maintenant!"

"Yeah, um, I don't have any clue what you just said, so, I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you just asked what I wanted for dinner…" I said, swallowing hard and trying to back away. The cops cocked their heads and started to yell at one another in French. "Whoa, Peter, was I right?"

"N-no, you w-were way off!" Pinky shook his head. "H-he knows w-we're s-secret agents and d-demanded an explanation!"

"You speak French, too?!" I spat. "Are there any languages you _don't_ know?"

"Y-yeah, I d-don't s-speak p-platypus!" Pinky snapped. I narrowed my eyes at him and was tempted to stick my tongue out at him. "P-put a s-sock in i-it, P-Perry!"

"Jean-Marc, appelez Zaïna, de l'Organisation Sans Acronyme Sympa!"

"Oui, chef!" Jean-Marc replied. They called someone over a police radio. In a matter of minutes, the door opened up, all of the cops saluted, and a fennec fox wearing a fedora walked through the door. The three of our jaws dropped at the same time. There was no denying that for a fox, she was ridiculously hot. She padded over to me, put one finger on my jaw, and looked into my eyes with her crystalline blue eyes.

"Bonjour, agent from America," she said, her voice as smooth and silky as satin, but also as piercing as ice. I felt my heart start to pound inside of my chest. "I am Zaïna from the Organisation Sans Acronyme Sympa, or the O.S.A.S., as we call it. And you are?"

"I-I…" I stammered. She brought her finger along the side of my cheek and followed my neck down to my sides. I could feel my palms starting to get sweaty. "M-my name is Agent P…I…well I work with…the…the Organization Without a Cool Acronym…we call that the…the…O.W.C.A. and…"

"And why are you and your little friends in France, may I ask?" Zaïna said, walking around me and letting her tail rest just under my bill. It smelled faintly of brown sugar, fresh vanilla, and Columbian blend coffee grounds. I could feel my eyes starting to close. "Is there something you need? A reason you're here?"

"I'm…I'm looking…for my daughter's mother…" I said, not realizing what I'd said. She huffed a little. "I-I mean I'm looking for another agent! I'm looking for an agent from the Australian branch. She's been kidnapped, I think. Can you help us?"

"What is the name of this agent?" Zaïna asked me, whipping around on my left and waking me up again. "Perhaps I know something…perhaps I don't."

"Her name is Felicia Liddell," I told her.

"Who do you presume she has been kidnapped by?" Zaïna pressured. Her eyes now bore into mine like daggers.

"How come she's touching Perry and not me?" Peter whispered to Pinky. The chihuahua barked at him snappily and they both resumed being silent.

"An organization called L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.," I said, doing my best to stay concentrated. She flicked her tail a little. "The League of Villainous Evildoers Maniacally United for Frightening Investments in Naughtiness. Have you heard of it?"

"Oui, but in France, we know it as another name," Zaïna said slowly. She took a step away from me, again trailing her tail behind under my bill. "I have been keeping an eye on that organization for a long while. It appears that their international head, Darryl Simmons, is conducting a worldwide scheme to intentionally harm the O.W.C.A. on a global scale. I am not certain what he plans to do, but I do know that he has the attention of the villains across France. This Felicia, I might have a _little_ bit of information on her, if you are willing to hear me out."

"If you get rid of the police, I'll hear anything you have to say," I said with a smirk. She turned around and jutted her right hip out a little. "In English, that is. I don't understand a word of French."

"If you insist, Agent P," Zaïna said, returning the expression with a slightly more intriguing air. She turned to the police and frowned. "D'accord, tout le monde, va t'en!"

"What'd you say?" I asked her as the cops scurried out of the room. She laughed and slammed the door behind them rather gracefully.

"I told them get out," she giggled. "But in French. Now, you want your information, Agent P, but it does not come without a price, I'm afraid. We can't just be giving out something for nothing, eh?"

"Name your price," I said flatly.

"He'll take anything," Peter chuckled. I gave him an elbow to the side. "What? It's not like Kristi was just delivered to you via Stork Express!"

"Ah, yes, the secret agent will do anything to get his mission done," she cooed softly. She walked back over to me and ran her finger down the center of my bill. "Agent P, in turn for the information you seek, you must pay me in a form of payment you have probably never used before. I require from you a night alone- just the two of us."

"D-doing what?" I said, swallowing hard.

"Nothing bad, Agent P," Zaïna smiled sweetly. "Just a small dinner date, perhaps a chat alone. Nothing bad, like I said. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, of course," I said, nodding my head vigorously. "Now, tell me what you know about Felicia."

"Felicia Liddell, A.O.W.C.A. agent, had sent a message to this particular hotel a few years ago in hopes of the arrest of a Perry Flynn," Zaïna said solemnly. "She wanted him arrested under the charge of rape. Apparently she ended up with a daughter. They never could find him, as his name in the books had not been his real name."

"Oh crap…" I murmured. Peter and Pinky both clasped a hand over their mouths to keep from saying anything or laughing. "Well, after I pay you, we've really got to find where she's being held. Perhaps this will lead to something bigger than we've ever uncovered before."

"I'm going with you, then," Zaïna insisted. "My nemesis could be in on this, too."

"Look out, L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.," I chuckled.

* * *

**That's peculiar payment...**


	13. The Truth About Zaïna

**This was longer than I thought it'd be, so, hooray. I'm thinking that I'm gonna have much fun with Zaïna. ****-AJ**

* * *

So, I'd promised that I'd give Zaïna, or Agent Z, a dinner date. So we went downtown later that evening (unbeknownst to Lyla and Kristi) and stopped at a local café. She, of course, had to do the ordering, but I offered to pay with my O.W.C.A. credit card. (I could buy anything in the world, pretty much- the organization would pay in whatever currency I needed).

The setting was pretty, I'll admit it. We were outdoors on a balcony above a cobblestone street. Pale, yellow lights lit up the area. Each table was round and made of mahogany. The chairs were made to match the tables. Flowers sat in little baskets here and there. Zaïna kept her fedora on, so I kept mine.

"So, Agent P," she said, her French accent making my alias sound way more attractive than it was ever meant to be. I did my best to focus. "Tell me about yourself. What is your life like outside of espionage?"

"Well…" I said, swallowing a little. "My cover is as a pet."

"Oh?" she raised her brow a little. "As a fox, I've never been able to pull that one off. Tell me what it's like- to live in a home with humans."

"Actually, it's rather nice," I said smiling a bit. "There's the two adults, the parents, and the mom has a daughter and a son, the dad has a son. It's a family merger. But, I technically belong to the two boys. They're the best friends I could ever have."

"Do they know that you are a secret agent?" she frowned.

"At the moment, yes," I nodded. "But once this mission gets cleared up, they'll either have their minds wiped or I'll be relocated. That's the only real drawback to this cover."

"I see," she said, sitting back and taking a sip of her drink. To the best of my knowledge, she'd ordered some kind of wine. I'd asked for 'limonade' which, to my surprise, was not the French equivalent of lemonade, but rather sparkling water with lemon juice in it. It didn't matter. I just needed something with lemon in it.

"What about you?" I asked her in turn. "Do you have a cover?"

"Well, I do some modeling for a French design company for dogs," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "They know me as simply 'Modele Numéro Cinq.' It's not the same as having a family, je suppose."

"You're a fox that models for dogs?" I blinked.

"Oui," she said quickly.

"Cool," I smiled. She laughed a little. "What? Was that a weird thing to say?"

"Ah, non!" she shook her head, still giggling a little to herself. "Most people usually don't say that's cool, though. They usually think it's rather bizarre for a fox to model for dogs. But what other job do you expect a fennec to get in Paris? We don't originate here."

"No?" I raised one brow curiously. "You're not French?"

"Well, I was raised and bred French, but no, I am actually imported from Africa," she explained. "I was being imported to be locked up in a zoo, but Maître Monnaie, my boss, rescued me and formed me into a well-oiled O.S.A.S. agent."

"So I'm not the only one…" I mumbled.

"Pardon?" she asked, tilting her head. "You are not American?"

"Okay, well, my parents are Australian," I informed her. "Or, so I've been told. They were captured and put into captivity. Before I hatched, they sent me over to the U.S. to see if they could take platypuses out of their natural habitat. So I hatched there instead. I don't exactly know how Major Monogram got ahold of me and sold me to my host family, but it all worked out."

"Perhaps deep down, all agents of our organization share this commonality," Zaïna suggested. I shifted in my seat and fiddled with the straw in my drink. "Perhaps they just mean to make heroes out of misfits."

"Misfits?" I sighed.

"Oui," she nodded. "You said yourself that platypuses don't originate from America. And fennecs don't originate in France. We are misfits in the lands we have grown up in, are we not? We are strangers in a world of familiarity."

"I guess I've never really noticed being the only platypus there," I said, looking down. "It's never really been pointed out to me until Kristi showed up…"

"Kristi?" Zaïna frowned. "Who is Kristi?"

"Okay, it's not just me and the other two American agents on this case," I said, licking the edge of my bill a little. "There's a Canadian O.W.C.A. member, a human named Lyla, and my…my daughter, also."

"Your _daughter_?" Zaïna asked, seeming shocked that this was possible. "I thought you were the only platypus in America."

"I was until recently," I said quietly. "In my defense, she's lived in Australia all of her life up until now. I didn't even know she existed. I knew her mom did, but there was never anything between her mom and me, which makes it all the stranger."

"I see," Zaïna said softly. "How has she come to you now?"

"Well…" I started, but then I stopped. I couldn't let Zaïna know that Felicia was Kristi's mother, because then I'd be looking at a few years in a French prison. I also couldn't let her know that I was Perry Flynn, and that Kristi's surname was Flynn. Zaïna was certainly no idiot; I had to be deathly careful with my dealing out of information. "Let's just say I think it's connected to this whole mess that L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.'s started."

"Ah, I see, Agent P," she said, taking another sip of her drink. I watched her, waiting to see if she could tell I was lying. She set her glass down. "Have you ever tried French wine? It's the best in the world?"

"Um, I can't say that I have," I blinked, confused by the quick turn in conversation. "Seeing as, well, I've never actually consumed anything with alcohol in it before."

"Never?" Zaïna leaned forward. She held the glass closer to my face and waved it around. "You really should."

"I don't drink," I returned, trying my best to not focus on her random outburst. What was she playing at? There had to be a motive. "And I don't intend to start now."

"Come now, Agent P," she said, her silky voice clawing at my mind. She slipped out of her seat and came and sat in my lap, much to my bewilderment. This was getting more and more difficult. "Just a sip. That's all. You won't even be effected."

"Fine, just _one_ sip," I consented. She pushed the glass into my face and before I knew what was going on, she'd dumped more than a sip into my mouth. I swallowed and had to force myself not to grimace. That stuff was nasty.

"Good, right?" she smiled. The way she looked at me made it hard to tell her no. So…

"Yeah…sure," I nodded cautiously. Worst mistake of my life.

* * *

**She's a fox, what did you honestly expect, lol?**


	14. Officially Outsmarted

**Yeah, filler of sorts. -AJ**

* * *

The next thing I remember, even to the slightest degree, I was being tossed into my hotel room without a clue as to why. Peter and Pinky hopped out of their beds to see what had entered the room to see me lying face-down on the floor and Zaïna staring down at me with her hands on her hips. They rushed to pick me up, one on each side of me grabbing an arm.

"What the heck happened to him?!" Peter spat. They stood me up only to watch me slump back over. Pinky caught me in his arms and gave me a confused look. He ran one finger in front of my eyes, trying to get them to focus. Nothing good came from that.

"I am not stupid, little panda," Zaïna huffed, flicking her tail indignantly. "I know when information is being held from me! I did what I do best- I got my information in the most simple and sneaky way possible."

"The spiders…they want me to tap dance…" I mumbled.

"P-Perry, did y-you j-just s-say what I th-think y-you said?" Pinky shook his head sighing. He pulled me over to the couch and forced me to sit down on it. "S-simple h-how?"

"Ah, he's clearly not able to handle a good _bon vin blanc_," she said, chuckling to herself. Pinky seemed to recognize the phrase.

"Y-you b-blooming idiot!" Pinky stammered. "Y-you g-got him d-drunk, d-didn't you?"

"Pinky, you derp, you just called Agent P by his real name!" Peter exclaimed. I didn't say anything. Instead, I fancied myself with trying to catch the tips of Pinky's whiskers. He didn't seem to like it too much, I wish I knew why.

"I want whiskers someday, Ryan," I giggled. Pinky gave me a hard stare.

"Yes, if that is how you wish to put it, little dog," Zaïna said haughtily. "I got him drunk enough to spill all of the information I needed to know to understand why you are here to the fullest. I'm tempted to have him arrested…but he's lucky that I have a slight crush on him."

"Darn," Peter said under his breath. I snatched one of Pinky's whiskers and let out a slurred hoot. "Pinky, knock him out cold."

"Wh-what is th-that gonna d-do?" Pinky frowned.

"It'll keep him from acting a fool all night," Peter said solemnly. "I should have known he was joking when he made all of those jokes about getting drunk at parties…he's probably going to hate knowing he actually ended up like that, based on his personality."

"SQUIRREL!" I shouted. I leapt for the window and hit it face-on. "Something doesn't feel like wind…"

"Whatever hope he has in regaining the trust of Felicia Liddell, you had better hope that he does not hope to win her back," Zaïna said icily. Peter frowned and ran over to help Pinky pull me back down onto the couch. "Based on the little experience I have had with her, I doubt that he can do anything in her favor."

"Fortunately for you, he's not trying to win her heart," Peter said gruffly. Zaïna straightened up a little. "I know you're jealous, don't even hide it. There's nothing between them, and there never was. He's just trying to find her for his daughter. Bet he didn't tell you that in his current state, did he?"

"Eat my pants…" I said, sounding out of breath.

"I got what I needed," Zaïna said, sniffing at him. "I'll determine my personal feelings."

She left the room without another word.

* * *

**So, Zaïna-Perry or Felicia-Perry? (Though I'm leaning away from Felicia-Perry). **


	15. Kristi's Bright Idea

**Here's what happens when Perry has a rough night in France...yeah. -AJ**

* * *

The next morning found me in the bathroom at about five o'clock. Nothing ruins a morning like nausea. I spent about thirty minutes retching up who knows what before a rather sleepy Lyla came to check on me. (Just to inform you, I have no clue why she was in the guys' room at all). She tapped me on the shoulder and waved my fedora at me.

"What?" I moaned. She grimaced.

"Can I ask what you're doing?" she frowned. Stooping down to my level, she cocked her head and blinked at me. I sniffed and squinted at her. "Or is that not the question I should be asking…?"

"Last night was rough," I said, being completely honest. Holding up one finger, I threw my head into the toilet and vomitted. "You want the short story…or the whole deal?"

"As much as I'd prefer the short story," Lyla said, stroking my back a little. I pulled my head out of the toilet bowel and cringed, hoping I wasn't about to puke again. "I think I need to hear the whole story."

"O-okay," I nodded. "Peter and I got into a fight about…well, I can't really remember what we were fighting over. Anyways, we were fighting, and then the French cops ran in all mad at us, wanting…gosh, I forget what they wanted, but they were ticked off at me. Yes, me. I think it had something to do with Felicia. Either way, they were all up in there like white on rice.

"Then, then they called in an O.S.A.S. agent- that is, a French O.W.C.A. agent- to translate and everything. And man, when she walked through the door, I know me, Peter, and Pinky, were all about to have a heart attack she was so hot. She's a Fennec fox named Zaïna, and yes, she's promised to help us with the Felicia situation. Her terms were that she and I went on a little rendezvous together. So we did. In the end, she flattered me into getting so drunk I couldn't tell up from down.

"Then came the worst part. She took me into her own hotel room and basically held me there until I gave up any information I'd held back from her earlier. The thing is, I don't remember a single bit of what happened after we got there. We could have done practically anything! The last I remember was fuzzy; she threw me back into our room and I passed out shortly afterwards."

"P!" Lyla exclaimed, laughing a little and almost popping me on the head. I rolled my eyes and vomitted again. She rubbed my shoulders and shook her head. "You gonna be okay, buddy? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Can you make this nausea stop?" I asked. She laughed and patted my back. The door flung open to reveal a very flustered Kristi. She dropped down on the floor and grabbed my hand.

"Daddy, are you okay?!" she shouted. I went to say something, but instead ended up hurling a third time since Lyla had gotten there. "What's wrong with him? Is he okay, Lyla? Daddy?"

"He's fine," she said softly. Kristi looked at her. "He's just sick because he had a rough night."

"She's right," I said, swallowing a little spit. "I'm okay."

Right then, looking into Kristi's eyes, I saw something I'd never seen before. In my heart, I truly saw her for who she was for the first time. At first, I'll admit, I thought I was just feeling the after-affects of whatever drink Zaïna had convinced me to down, but Kristi's overwhelming display of concern for me proved me wrong.

"You sure, P?" Lyla said, offering me a hand. "You good to stand up now?"

"I think so," I nodded. Shakily, I stood to my feet and flushed the toilet. "Sorry…about that…"

"Nah, you're good, P," she chuckled. She reached down and ruffled the fur on top of my head. "Just promise us you won't touch anymore alcoholic beverages, eh? We need you firing on all cylinders, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I sighed. I pulled a towel down from near the sink and wiped my face off. Peter and Pinky poked their heads in and smiled at me. "Ah, so you guys _are_ awake, after all? I thought for sure you were still sound asleep."

"Not with you in here puking your guts out," Peter snickered. I walked out of the bathroom and threw the towel on the floor. Peter grabbed me by the neck and pulled me close to him. He jokingly rubbed my stomach. "So…when are you due again?"

"Shut up!" I said, throwing his arms off. He just laughed.

"I-I d-didn't find th-that funny…" Pinky growled. Peter lazily pushed the chihuahua over and watched him trip over his own ears.

"Aw, come on, he woke up and had morning sickness, it was a fair joke," Peter shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at him and chattered angrily. "Gug-a-gurg-a-ding-dong to you, too."

"I do _not_ sound like that!" I spat.

"No, he does not," Zaïna said, stalking into the bedroom as silently as she could. Kristi and Lyla awkwardly waved her. Zaïna raised her brow and smiled at them. "Ah, Perry, I see what you mean now- she _does_ have your bill."

"Oh, do I?" Kristi giggled.

"Cute accent," Zaïna mumbled. "So, do you have any idea where to head now?"

"Well, we came here on a hunch based on a letter that we're pretty sure Felicia wrote as a clue," I said. Lyla handed me my fedora. Placing it on my head, I continued. "Clearly, Versailles wasn't the answer to the clue, like I thought it was."

"What was the clue?" Zaïna asked, flicking her tail a little.

"In a fake letter she left in my nemesis' penthouse, she left the clue that she was 'where this all began' for us to dig out of the text," I frowned. "I assumed that she meant Kristi, since that's the only thing I can sense she meant out of our first and sole meeting."

"Perhaps she means where I hatched at," Kristi pointed out. "Not where I was, you know, conceived."

"Th-that's a g-good point!" Pinky exclaimed, smiling wide. "C-coming into th-the world i-is a b-beginning, isn't i-it?"

"Right you are!" I said, pulling Kristi in for a large hug. She laughed and blushed a little. "Guys, I think Kristi's onto something. We've just got to find her birthplace and search there. Kristi, you truly are an agent's daughter, that's for sure."

"Aww, Dad," she said, turning even redder.

"Now, where are we headed, baby girl?" I asked her.

"I hatched in Oz," she said. "The place is called Oz. Oz, Australia. That's also where you'll find a lot of Mum's family members. It's also the heart of the Australian O.W.C.A. branch. I'm sure there's lots of intel there."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Peter grinned. "Let's crack this case!"

* * *

**Peter ready to go. BOO-YA!**


End file.
